1993
‘So,’ said Gray, ‘what happened last night?’
‘Nothing,’ Kirsty replied defensively.
‘You know my window is right over the front door, right?’
‘Yeah. And?’
‘I heard what was happening. I heard him being arsey with you.’
‘What do you mean, arsey?’
‘He got all dark and twisted when you wouldn’t kiss him. And after you went inside he kicked the wall. Really hard. Didn’t look like the date of the century.’
She shrugged. ‘I just wasn’t really in the mood. You know.’
‘My point exactly. At this point in a beautiful new relationship you should be all over each other like a rash, unable to keep your hands off each other.’
Kirsty tutted and raised her eyebrows at him. ‘What would you know?’
‘I know what love’s young dream is supposed to look like, I’ve seen enough movies, and it’s not you two, that’s for sure.’
‘Life isn’t like the movies, Gray.’
He sighed. ‘Listen, Kirst, I’m not trying to get at you, I’m just looking out for you. This is your first boyfriend and I’m getting all kinds of bad vibes about it. About him.’
Kirsty blinked and stared at the floor.
‘It’s just, you need to know that you’re allowed to say no. There’s no law that says you have to go out with someone just because they asked you. He’s a big grown-up guy, he can cope with rejection. He’ll get over it. And he’s going to be coming over here any minute now trying to persuade you to spend the day with him and you need to decide now what you’re going to say to him.’
‘I know,’ she hissed and Gray knew he’d hit the mark.
‘So?’
‘Can you tell him?’ she said. And there she was again, the baby sister coming to him with a scraped knee. ‘Can you tell him I’m ill?’
Gray held back a victorious smile. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I can do that.’
‘It’s not that I don’t like him. I do. It’s just . . .’
‘You’re not ready.’
She looked at him first crossly and then softly. ‘Kind of. I guess. I mean, he’s maybe a bit old for me. And he’s really intense. About everything. And maybe I should be with someone who’s a bit more fun.’
‘I concur. Wholeheartedly.’
‘But it’s just that he’s so good-looking. I keep thinking about my friends. How jealous they’d be if they saw us together.’
‘So, not shallow or anything then?’
She frowned and then smiled. ‘I know. And it’s not like they’d ever see us together anyway.’
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘I can’t quite envisage Mark pitching up in Croydon somehow.’
As Gray spoke they both became aware of a movement behind them, a shadow across the low window that overlooked the street. Kirsty gasped and clamped her hand over her heart. It was Mark, hands cupped against the glass, peering in at them. He smiled grimly as his eye caught Gray’s.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Gray muttered. He turned to Kirsty but she had slipped, fast as light, under the table and was crouching on the floor at his feet.
‘Tell him I’m sick,’ she hissed.
‘But he’s seen you.’
‘He might not have.’
‘Of course he has!’
‘Just go and tell him. Please.’
Gray sighed and pushed back his chair.
Mark stood at the door in jeans and a baseball cap. The baseball cap looked like a rushed afterthought, something he’d thrown on at the last minute because maybe his hair hadn’t looked plastic enough. ‘Yo.’
‘Er, yo.’
‘Can I have a word with your sister?’
‘She’s not well.’
‘But she’s . . .’ He pointed behind Gray at the dining room to the right.
‘She went back to bed.’
‘Oh, come on . . .’
‘I don’t know what you want me to say. She was sick. She went back to bed.’
‘Do you really expect me to believe that?’
‘Yes. I really do.’
There was a dark silence, a few seconds long.
‘She was fine last night.’
‘Yes, well, maybe she ate something that didn’t agree with her.’
Mark rolled his eyes and started to push his way past Gray and into the house.
Gray pressed his hands into Mark’s chest. ‘Er, I don’t think so.’
‘I just want to see her,’ Mark said, his voice reedy with annoyance.
‘She doesn’t want to see you.’
‘How do you know? Did you ask her?’
‘Yes. I asked her. She said, “I don’t want to see him.”’
‘I don’t believe you. Kirsty! Kirsty!’ He began pushing himself against Gray’s body again.
Tony appeared on the bottom step then, wrapped up in a towelling dressing gown, his hair wet from the shower. ‘Morning, Mark,’ he said genially. ‘Everything OK?’
‘I was hoping to see Kirsty,’ Mark said. ‘Your son seems to think she’s ill.’
Gray threw his father a warning glance.
‘Oh,’ said Tony, clearly lying, but Gray didn’t care. ‘Yeah. Bit of a sore throat.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Mark. ‘Two minutes ago it was that she’d been sick. For God’s sake. I’m not an idiot.’
‘Listen, Mark,’ said Gray, ‘it doesn’t matter if Kirsty’s ill or not. The fact of the matter is that she doesn’t want to see you. OK?’
Mark fell back a step, snatched the baseball cap from his head and rubbed his hair back into place. ‘Whatever,’ he hissed, the cap twisted inside his hands. ‘Seriously. Whatever.’ He backed away another step before taking one more forwards and saying, ‘Tell her I called. Tell her I’ll be waiting for her at my aunt’s. When she’s feeling better.’
‘We certainly will,’ said Tony, still upbeat. ‘Sorry for the wasted journey.’
Mark gave both of them a furious look before pulling the cap back over his hair and striding away from them, muttering loudly under his breath.
Gray and his dad looked at each other.
‘See?’ said Gray. ‘Do you see now?’
Tony shook his head disbelievingly. ‘What a total dickhead.’
Kirsty appeared from her hiding place under the dining table and then their mum poked her head down the stairs. ‘What was that all about?’
‘Nothing,’ said Gray, ‘just Mark not being able to take no for an answer. He’s gone now.’
The four of them stood together for a moment, gathered around the front door, the backdraught of Mark and his strange anger holding them together like fence posts.